


The Sentinel's Bed

by SullenDragon



Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: Fairy Tale Elements, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-20 20:53:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17629493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SullenDragon/pseuds/SullenDragon
Summary: a fairy tale(sort of)





	The Sentinel's Bed

Something was wrong with Jim Ellison’s bed.

Not with his skin. Not with his senses. His flannel pajamas were comfortable and warm, even though they’d be the first thing to go if his tactile dial was wrong. _He_ was fine. His bed was not. Rolling to the other side of the bed provided no relief. He felt along the surface of the mattress, but none of the springs were out of place.

Sighing, Jim scooched his way out of the mess of bedding. He softened his tread when he hit the stairs. Sandburg could sleep through anything, but Jim wasn’t _rude_. Jim dragged the afghan off the back of the couch and flopped onto the couch.

He spent a while arranging his limbs, sorting out how he would fit best into the small space. Then he waited. And waited. He closed his eyes. He opened them. An itch crept up along his back. He twitched, and recognized the soreness there. Maybe there really was something wrong with him.

Ditching the blanket, he headed for Blair’s room. Jim needed his sleep, and if two minutes of Blair’s help would sort him out, he’d wake him. Jim would definitely get a lecture if he tried to duck out of tomorrow’s tests for a nap or three.

“Sandburg.” The door swung open a bit under the tap of his knuckles. “Sandburg,” he said again. “Blair.” He scooted in through the cracked door and settled on the edge of the futon. The chair was covered in books and three open file folders.

“Hmm?” Not exactly a word, but Blair’s breathing was steady, a little fast. His eyes opened. Jim opened his mouth, about to explain. Blair scooted over, pulled the covers down a bit with one foot, and a few things clicked into place.

“What did you do to me, Sandburg?” Blair winced. Jim pulled his legs up onto the mattress and made himself at home on Blair’s pillow, glaring at the ceiling. Blair’s bed was, mysteriously, quite comfortable.

“Peas.” The word was almost too soft for Jim to catch, with the way his anger and nerves were rushing around his ears. “Under your mattress. Not a test. A… thing. A joke?”

Blair was all tension against Jim’s side. Click, click, click; Jim was a detective. Nonverbal cues weren’t new to him. Jim propped up against one elbow and leaned over his conniving, underhanded bed partner.

“I’ll laugh tomorrow.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Blair’s lips. Blair wasn’t a detective, but he was no dummy. He caught on quick, and they were both panting when they pulled apart. Jim wondered if his own smile could possibly match the bright joy of Blair’s grin.

“Sandburg, if you think for _one second_ that I’m sleeping down here in your weird book cave when there is not a damn thing wrong with my bed, you are mistaken. Go fix it!” Blair’s hand was tight on his as Jim dragged them both out of bed and toward the stairs. Blair shot him a devilish look over his shoulder.

“As you wish, princess.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope all the references click, because if not you guys probably think I'm one kinky son-of-a-gun. :)  
> As always, I don't even know where the lines between ratings should actually land, so... hopefully it's fine.


End file.
